


Twin Suns

by ArcticShadowmaker



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, F/F, M/M, Yes I know, basically Draco has a twin sister
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-07-29 10:29:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20080699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcticShadowmaker/pseuds/ArcticShadowmaker
Summary: Double trouble, there is not one, but two Malfoy at Hogwarts.





	1. The twins

Everything was peaceful in this day of June. A light breeze lazily shook the branches of trees laden with leaves and flowers, blurred the tranquil surface of streams, ruffled the feathers of birds nonchalantly perched on electric cables, tousled the hair of the few pedestrians calmly strolling. The sun played at some light games over lakes and car windshields, happily drew slowly stretching shadows, warmed up and blithely colored the skin of the first holiday-goers lounging on beaches. Migratory birds gayly sung their return from warmer countries, mingled among each other to form great flocks that drew the eye as well as a reflection of the celestial star. Yes, everything was peaceful, even humans and their incessant and vain chatterings. And yet... In the bedroom of a hospital hidden away from the eyes and ears of a great part of the population, a woman screamed. Out of pain or out of frustration, no one knew. Perhaps a little bit of both. But mostly out of pain, everyone agreed, at least on that. To birth two twins was an easy thing, so when these two were reluctant to the idea of getting out of the comfy cocoon of their mother's belly, it became extremely complicated. And Narcissa Malfoy wasn't going to tell the contrary. Narcissa was the unhappy – or happy, depending on the point of view – mother of twins not particularly hurried to discover the world. They wouldn't even have to worry about a thing! Not only were they Malfoys, born in the most powerful family of the United Kingdom, but they were also wizards, and twins above all. The link uniting a wizard to their twin was supremely powerful, almost impossible to destroy, which was why having twins in a family of wizards was very rare. It was said that only wizards of great power, usually Pure-Bloods, could birth twins.

Lucius Malfoy, of a prideful nature, could not help himself from boasting about his wonderful progeny. Those children would do honor to the Malfoy name. Lucius had no worry about their education, his family had nobility in their blood. No, the only thing that worried him was his will. He knew to which extent the sharing of the will of a great fortune such as his could create sparks. The power of money could break the strongest of bonds, even a twining link. All the more, Malfoys were Slytherins to the marrow of their bones, not little Hufflepuffs whose heart and naivety knew no boundaries. The search for an ever greater power was in their genes. Unless a deal involving numerous concessions to each other was struck, their would not amicably share a patrimony as big as theirs to be. Lucius' sons would become hards negotiators. For there was no doubt in his mind that his children would both be boys.

Narcissa wasn't asking herself those kind of questions. As of right now, she was screaming her vocal chords out, as, visibly, one of her children was getting bored and was – finally – looking for the exit. Yet it seemed that it was a fierce race to find out who would first rip themselves out of the motherly comfort, for the first dear blond head – and it was really blond – only appeared several minutes after having started to stir, quickly followed by another, to which it seemed closely attached. Silence fell on the assembly of obstetricians and parents, only disturbed by the – rather noisy – cries of the babies. Without a word, Lucius, stunned, approached his first child, who stopped crying to blink large blue eyes at him, then immediately resumed wailing. He looked it up from head to toe. A girl. And a boy. Who were not letting go of each other for the world.

Narcissa broke the silence with a worried and breathless voice. “Will the link be as strong... as for true twins?” she asked, taking her son in her arms, breaking the connection between the children.

Immediately, they started writhing in every way, screaming the very air out of their lungs. Surprised, Narcissa let go of her child. They struggled a little more, until a Mediwizard took the little girl and placed her next to her brother in their mother’s lap. The twins thus found themselves close to each other and joined their little hands together. There, they calmed down. Their eyes fluttered gently until they closed. The Mediwizard grinned a large smile.

“Well, after what we just witnessed, my Lady, I think we can affirm that it will!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are something akin to a life blood!


	2. The first steps towards greatness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins grow up. Alliances and enemies are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting a little later than I meant to, because I was moving out, but here it is!

The first problem faced by the young parents had been their daughter’s name. For their son, there had been no doubt: Draco Lucius Alexander Malfoy had been right there. So, after having ordered the obstetricians out, they had long conferred with each other to decide on the perfect name. They had put both their heads to it, they had searched, hesitated, had sometimes raised their voices – but not too much – and then, finally, they had found it. _The _name. The name that was perfectly associated to her brother’s. The name that defined what was a Malfoy, man or woman. After several dozens of minutes of concerting, Yilan Narcissa Elizabeth Malfoy found herself adorned with a ridiculous – but mandatory – pink bracelet upon which her name was written. The little one was very quiet and discreet, thus did she but little interest her father. Oh, of course, he would educate her too, as well as her brother, she would follow the same classes as him. After all, in a Malfoy, gender has little importance. A woman can manage an empire as well as a man, perhaps even better. But she was too discreet, and should she pursue on this way, she would only be good to bear an heir. Which would, in itself, not be that much of a problem. However, Lucius did not see himself raising a little girl who would become a young girl, then a woman, who would be totally submissive to a husband.

But Narcissa was to happy to have a daughter that she categorically refused that her daughter be a mere uterus to perpetrate the Malfoy line – a rich and noble uterus, yes, but still a uterus. It was out of question that her daughter be a dumb laying hen. Thus, as soon as the newly mother was able to get out of the hospital, she took it on herself to educate her daughter. To her great joy, Yilan revealed herself to be a studious, persevering, attentive student, and she made progress at an incredible speed. Cissy thought to herself that she reminded her of herself at the same age, to one little difference: Yilan did not leave her brother’s side for a second. She refused to be separated from him in their private classes and knew how to make herself heard. Not in the same way as Draco, but she was very capable of affirming herself, and her mother only adored her more for that. Which the young Malfoy heir did not see from a very good eye as soon as he understood what the word “jealousy” meant. Yilan shared everything with him, absolutely everything, but he was under the impression that the only thing he was refused was the most important thing of all: the boundless love his mother felt for his sister. It seemed to him that Narcissa did not love him as much as she loved her daughter. And yet, she would do anything for him. Everyone, in fact, was ready to risk their own life to make sure that he never need anything, that he was happy and led a peaceful life. Even – and mostly – his sister. Even his father, who yet took a certain care in not letting anything untoward – like an emotion – slip past his carefully crafted ice mask of a face.

Despite their family’s tendency to avoid showing their feelings like the plague, Yilan and Draco grew up loved by their parents, admired by the important adults – who went on and on about the “wonderful Malfoy twins” – and respected by the children of their age. Among those, Blaise Zabini, whose mother was known under the nickname of the Black Widow, for her numerous husbands and their mysterious passings; Theodore Nott, a rather strange boy with big, faded blue eyes which Yilan described as her best friend; Pansy Parkinson, who had decided that she and Draco would get married as soon as they became 17, and who, in waiting, made it her personal duty to follow him like a shadow; and then, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, two indissociable boys destined to become absolute mountains and seemed to be the personal bodyguards to the twins. Lastly, a tall girl named Millicent Bullstrode had been introduced to the twins, also coming from a wealthy family of Pure-Blood wizards, and she had quickly integrated the little group of heirs of fortunes each greater than the other. When the adults had started talking about their education at Hogwarts, the children had decided that they would all go, together, in Slytherin, their parents' house, the most noble of the four, the one where the greatest wizards came from, such as Merlin, the most powerful of all. There was no doubt that the Malfoy twins would be sorted into this house, as it was where their family had been sorted for generations.

* * *

A few hours before their departure for Hogwarts, Lucius warned his children.

“Do you remember what I told you about Harry Potter?” he asked them. “Better to have him as a friend than as an enemy. Do not forget that.”

“Father, what if Potter was sorted in Hufflepuff?” Draco worried. “Should we make friends with him even then?”

Lucius shuddered briefly at the thought of his children befriending a Hufflepuff.

“I doubt that it will happen.” Yilan said. “He is more likely to be sorted into Gryffindor. After all, his parents went there, as well as their closest friends. And you mentioned Dumbledore, Father, who would do anything to have the Survivor by his side. Godric's house is the closest to the headmaster.”

Lucius nodded at his daughter's reasoning. Had she not been a Malfoy, she would have excelled in Ravenclaw. He sometimes wondered if she really was only eleven. But she was a Malfoy, after all. He gently squeezed his children's shoulders, and they left to get ready. They would do honor to their name, he was certain of it. They already had the education and the manners suited to their rank. They would bring a new shine to the green and silver Malfoy crest. For generations to come, their name would be associated to nobility, to power, and to blood purity.

* * *

After having briefly hugged their parents and assured them that they would make them proud, the Malfoy twins climbed aboard the Hogwarts Express, followed closely by Vincent and Gregory. They settled in a compartment and starting chatting among themselves, until the arrival of a red-faced boy and a bushy-haired girl disturbed their peace.

“You wouldn't happen to have seen a toad, would you?” the girl asked in an authoritative tone.

The Malfoys shared a look as Vincent groaned in response to the girl. She left under the cold gazes of the soon-to-be Slytherin children.

“A toad... What a bizarre idea for a pet.” Pansy mused, a vaguely disgusted pout on her face.

“An owl would at least be useful.” Blaise agreed, popping a Bertie Botts all flavored bean into his mouth. His pleased expression let his friends know that he had found a rather tasty one. Blaise had never had the misfortune of getting a foul flavored bean, the lucky bastard.

“A cat is nice too.” Theodore murmured, not even looking up from his book.

Yilan rather agreed with him. Cats were graceful and elegant, at least. She leaned towards her brother.

“Draco, do you remember what Father asked of us?” When he nodded, a bit distracted by Blaise's chocolate frog's hopping, she pursued. “Harry Potter is on this train. We must make friends with him.”

The blonde nodded, then got up and asked his bodyguards to follow him. Yilan stopped him by the wrist.

“I know you like them a lot,” she started, “but they won't make the best impression. Pansy and Blaise...”

“I don't want to give Pansy a reason to follow me around even more.” Draco interrupted her. “It will be Gregory and Vincent.”

Yilan grimaced slightly, but let him go. They arrived as a group to the compartment where sat the famous Harry Potter. She stayed outside for a while, listening with weariness as her brother made a fight of his very first interaction with a Weasley. Her brother was such an idiot when it came to sociability with people who couldn't understand the world the same way they did...Of course, they knew to despise the Weasley family, but to do so in front of the Survivor while he seemed to appreciate at least one of them was rather stupid, especially when they wanted to make friends with him. Thus, when her brother and his friends left, tail between their legs, she dejectedly posted herself on the doorstep and observed the small brown haired boy with the round glasses, hoping to smooth over her twin's misstep. The Survivor looked far removed from the picture her father and the journals had painted of him. The press had idealized him as some sort of real life legend, a kind of demi-god, or a super-powered dark mage. In any case, no one had pictured him as this skinny boy wearing clothes worn to the thread and at least twice too big for him. In fact, he almost looked like any other boy going to Hogwarts, at that that he looked malnourished, almost under alimented, bones almost visible under his brown skin. Yilan began to wonder if he wasn't the wrong boy. What wizard in their right mind would mistreat the Survivor? But perhaps it wasn't a wizard. Perhaps the Golden Boy had been raised by particularly poor – or mean – Muggles. She should tell her father about it.

“Please forgive Draco.” she began. “He has some... difficulties with making new acquaintances. As for Vincent and Gregory, they mostly do what he tells him.”

Harry Potter stared at her, looking surprised and a little lost, likely perplexed at facing the feminine version of the blonde who had insulted his friend. Friend who expressed his skepticism at her words by a fake cough.

“He doesn't have _'difficulties'. _It's in his nature to be an arse.” he scoffed.

She turned to him slowly.

“But of course, I had forgotten, you have known him since birth. You obviously know every facet of his personality, every turn of his mind, every whim of his thought process.” she replied in the slick tone she had borrowed from her godfather, the one and only Severus Snape.

“I don't need to have known him since birth to know what he's like.” the redhead snapped back. “He's a Malfoy, all Malfoys are like that. I'm sure you are too.”

Yilan allowed herself a mental, victorious smirk before turning back towards the brunette.

“What was it that you disliked about my brother again?” she tapped her chin, feigning having forgotten the dispute. “That he judged others by their name or their reputation, yes?”

She threw Weasley a dirty look as the other hesitated.

“This Draco Malfoy, he's your brother?” he finally asked.

“My twin.” she confirmed. “I will not force you to become friends with him if you do not wish for you to be so. Neither will I attempt to break the friendships you will forge yourself. I will only warn you that some people may have... malicious intents.”

“Yeah, like you.” Weasley spat.

Potter said nothing, but he looked mildly uncomfortable by his friend's outburst.

“What's your name?” he asked.

“Yilan Malfoy, pleased to meet you.” she stretched out her hand.

“Harry Potter.” he shook it with a small smile under the stunned look of his red-haired companion.

“I know.” she said with a smirk of her own.

She took a small step outside the compartment.

“Weasley, I will not shake your hand. After such a prejudiced attitude, you do not deserve this privilege.”

As she left, she missed neither the brunette’s laugh, nor the arrival of the girl who was – still – looking for a toad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was another chapter. Please tell me what you think!


	3. Infiltration

During the Sorting Ceremony, the Hat had sent Draco straight to Slytherin merely by brushing against his hair. However, it was still a few inches above Yilan’s head when it exclaimed _“Slytherin!”._The professors exchanged a look that was both knowing and worried, while the girl proudly set to sit next to her brother. The Hat had rarely been so certain of its decision. Usually, it chatted a bit with the students, or it had enough with just feeling them, but here, it didn’t have any contact with the girl. What was more, it was to send her to Slytherin… This lightning fast choice was in no way reassuring. Even Severus Snape was surprised of the speed at which his goddaughter adhered to his house, although he showed nothing of it. A few whispers had also gone around the students’ tables, yet it was nothing in comparison to the hushed clamor which invaded the Great Hall at the hearing of the name of the wizarding world’s prodigal son.

Severus grimaced at the choice of the worn artifact. Gryffindor, obviously. He threw Dumbledore a quick glance; the man smiled in a way you could describe as benevolent, but the Potion Master knew it to be satisfied. He followed the Survivor with piercing eyes and watched as he slid himself next to the Weasley, and clap noisily when the youngest of the tribe ended up as well at the red and gold table. The Weasley, of course. And yet, Potter had stayed quite a while under the Hat, to the extent that you could believe him a Hatstall. Which other House could have suited the Golden Boy? Certainly not Slytherin, both of his parents had been Gryffindors, and, well, Dumbledore had certainly been careful, shouldered by the Weasleys, although these people looked more like nice little Hufflepuffs than brave Gryffindors.

A quick, barely there thing caught onyx eyes. A brief exchange of looks between Potter and his goddaughter on the green and silver table. Had Dumbledore’s protégé sympathized with a Malfoy? Yet the most surprising thing had doubtlessly been the hesitant look on the brunette’s face towards Yilan’s twin. Had Draco too had a chat with the Survivor? If that was the case, this one had certainly not been as friendly as the one with Yilan. Severus didn’t know what to think. But, at the moment, he had other grindylows to fry. Quirinus Quirell had apparently been trying to chat with him for quite some time. Well, actually, he seemed to rather be talking to himself, which only heightened Severus’ suspicion towards him. He himself never completely trusted anyone, obviously, but he had a bad feeling about the shifty professor. What was more, Dumbledore had asked him to keep an eye on him. Not that he completely trusted the old wizard either: he had done that once, and the woman he loved had been killed.

Despite himself, his eyes slid to Lucius and Narcissa’s children. If the Dark Lord ever came back, and he would come back, the twins would only have two options: join the Deatheaters, or hide the Order of the Phoenix. Yet if they chose the second alternative, who would accept the presence of Deatheaters’ children, Lucius Malfoy’s children, no less, within their ranks? That being said, if Lucius persuaded his progeny that the way of the Darkness was the better, they would follow him without a doubt. And that was what Severus feared. Voldemort liked young recruits. He would adore the Malfoy twins. They would become powerful, and elegant, and beautiful. They would become charismatic, and charismatic Deatheaters were the most dangerous of all. Lunatics like Bellatrix Lestrange were bad publicity; who would join a bunch of insane Dark Mages? But the Malfoy twins… If Voldemort played his cards right, they would become the poster children for success and power within the dark ranks. Unless Lucius admitted that it was not the best thing for his children. Perhaps the tall blonde would finally open his eyes, and see that kiss the robes of a genocidal maniac was unworthy of him, and drastically opposed his family’s principles. And, well, if he didn’t see it alone, Severus would be obliged, and pleased, to help him to it.

* * *

On the children’s side, you could notice a rather incongruous evolution of the relationships maintained by Yilan and Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. Since the Golden Boy had been promoted as Seeker for the Gryffindor team, there seemed to have been a war waged between the two boys. With the girl, however, it was a different story. Harry couldn’t tell what her position was in the fight between him and her brother. She neither rooted for nor went up against her twin. She was totally neutral, except when Ron Weasley or Hermione Granger got involved. She spoke words that were neither condescending nor scathing, but that made everyone shut up. In those cases, they could never really tell whose side she was on. To be honest, she was on no one’s side. She held the two teams to the same regard, choosing neither and both at the same time.

Because of this, Harry ignored if he could count her as his friend or not. Ron vehemently maintained that no, he definitely could not, she was a Malfoy before anything else, her parents had been great supporters of You-Know-Who, they could decently not trust her. Hermione was more pragmatic. She thought it more reasonable to wait until the stakes were more serious, and themselves more mature. All the while, the four children got along cordially, although the three lions could not bear Draco. Harry had also managed to make himself an enemy of Snape: absolute nightmare in potions, spit image of Potter senior, and gifted with an insolent luck, the kid had immediately raised his hackles. The feeling was mutual. Despite his goddaughter’s friendship with the Survivor, he was convinced that Potter would follow his father’s footsteps with as much fervor as Draco followed his own. In fact, he was sure that the blonde girl was only close to the brunette for her own interest, and her brother’s: she was a Slytherin, and a Malfoy above all. She did nothing that wasn’t of use to herself.

* * *

The friendship between Harry Potter and Yilan Malfoy, as bizarre and incomprehensible as it seemed, was known throughout Hogwarts, as much as the ferocious hatred between the Golden Boy and the other Malfoy. People were surprised by these relationships, as, usually, the friends of one twin were friends of the other. But it was also true that the Malfoys didn't do things quite like everyone else. As for herself, Yilan, while still keeping amicable friendship with Harry, stayed out of the Golden Trio's misadventures. Harry had spent a lot of his first year at Hogwarts wondering if he could truly trust her. To him she was no more than a somewhat good friend who had no care for his fame; her name too was famous, perhaps more so than his own. In second year, he had been more mistrustful of her: Draco wasn't Slytherin's heir, but they hadn't asked his sister. Harry hadn't dared, they weren't close enough, and he ignored if she too thought that _he _was the heir. In the end, it was her who confronted him about it. She had told him that only fools could believe that he was the heir, and she had brought up his friendship with Hermione and Ron as proof.

This year had been rather tense between the teens. Draco had insulted Hermione, prompting Ron to attack him with a spell which unfortunately backfired, under the mocking laughter of the green and silver Quidditch team. Yilan had remained quiet during the altercation. However, later, she had taken her brother in private to try to make him understand that his insult was stupid and illegitimate. Hermione was a brilliant witch, no matter what he thought, he could not deny her intelligence. But Lucius' precepts and those of other Pure-Bloods were firmly anchored in the blonde's head. He had not taken the lesson with a smile. Rather, he accused his sister of betraying him and their whole family. Yilan had been hurt by his words, though she didn't let anyone see. After a week of icy silence, Draco had tried to make himself forgiven by his twin. She had accepted, but hadn't asked to do the same with Hermione, only that he be more civil towards her. They both knew how stubborn the young witch could be, and how hard unlearning their own prejudice was.

In third year, the incident with the hippogriff had somewhat strengthened the Harry-Yilan friendship, and the Harry-Draco hatred. Yilan had joined the Survivor's side by repeating to her brother that his comedy with his wound was ridiculous, and that his following actions, asking their father to have the beast executed, then his mocking about the Dementors, would certainly not help him win the Gryffindor's favors. Demanding Hagrid's discharge wouldn't either. Draco had pouted about this, muttering that everything had been fine anyway thanks to the Golden Trio, but he had had to admit that he had gone too far.

It was in fourth year that things began to turn sour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm skipping the first three years for now, but I might add some scenes from these years as a bonus in the end, who knows. Let me know what you think!


	4. L'amour fait ce qu'il veut

There reigned a gentle warmth in the park of Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire. Back to an olive tree which made her mother's pride, facing a clear lake which endeared her father, an almost 14 years old Yilan was blackening page after page with little circles, black or white, linked together or alone. Sometimes, when the end result dissatisfied her, she put down her quill and her parchments, seized the object of her contempt, and folded it neatly, until she obtained a paper swan dotted with music notes. Three paper birds were sitting next to her, sagely waiting for a fourth to join them. They didn't have to wait long. A sequence of thrills later, a rustling of paper was heard, and a new swan was placed in the soft grass. However, Yilan did not take back her blank music sheets. Brows down, she sat more frankly against the tree, an arm resting on her raised knee, and thought about her piece. She was already late, she did not wish to be even later, but she couldn't do it. She didn't understand the reasons of this sudden block. She had promised him, like every year, and every year, she kept her promise. So why, now, couldn't she finish this piece?

Few people knew of this tradition that had taken place between the Malfoy twins. Rarer were the wizards who even knew of their shared passion for music and had heard their prowesses. For Draco and Yilan were indisputably gifted, each in their own way. Draco excelled with any sort of instrument, though his favorite were the piano and the violin. Yilan composed. She played, sometimes, but she was much less gifted than her brother. Draco was able to decipher a music sheet once and play and replay it without more difficulties than if it were a child's song. His greatest strength, though, was the emotion he was capable of echoing through the music. You never got bored of listening to him play. It was thus without any remorse that his parents had, multiple times, bought at an extravagant price hand-written music sheets of the greatest musicians, Muggles or wizards. In this domain of music, all were forced to admit the Muggles' genius, even the old, hardened Walburga Black had, begrudgingly, admitted that it was the Muggle way of doing magic. But what Draco preferred were the pieces written by his sister specially for him. As soon as she became capable of aligning notes on a music sheet, Yilan gifted him, for their birthday, one of her compositions, always the best one.

Yet this year, it was impossible to finish her piece. Sighing, she put her parchments down, stretched like a cat and closed her eyes, head resting on the tree trunk. Knowing that she couldn't give her gift to her brother bothered her, she felt as if she was disappointing him, and herself at the same time. A rustling of paper made her open her eyes and look to her left. The swans deployed their parchment wings and waddled slowly towards the lake.

“Mother.” she sighed.

Narcissa Malfoy had always had this sort of innate grace, no matter the field of practice, be it physical, magical, or even in her speech. Naturally, her children had inherited of it, but to a lesser degree. Had you told them that their mother was the child of Magic itself, pure, elegant, graceful, they would not have been that surprised.

“You seem deep in thought, Yilan.” Narcissa said softly, sitting down on the grass, her grey eyes glinting delicately in the afternoon sun.

The silver irises were a characteristics of the Black family, of which Draco had inherited. His sister possessed the icy blue eyes of her father.

“We will not have a concerto for piano in Malfoy major this year, I'm afraid.” she confessed.

“Draco will be disappointed.”

“I myself already am.”

A comfortable silence settled between the two women. They observed the paper swans splash around in the lake without taking water nor get rid of the black and white notes on their parchment bodies. One of them, more black than white, splayed out its wings and ruffled its feather with an air of importance. The other birds turned towards this oddball, and showed their own spans, looking threatening. The black swan nobly turned its back on its aggressive peers, and waddled back on the grass, next to the humans.

Oddly, Yilan was suddenly reminded of Sirius Black, her mother's cousin. Despised by his own family for who he was, a Gryffindor friend of the Half-Bloods and the Muggle-Borns, loyal and courageous, because he was different from them and didn't adhere to their beliefs. He had been James Potter's best friend, who had taken him as godfather to his son Harry, and he later had been accused of the murder of one of his closest friends. Incarcerated to Azkaban, and since he escaped last year, actively pursued by Dementors and the Ministry's best Aurors. He had been accused of being a Death Eater and the Dark Lord's right hand. As if a Gryffindor, and James Potter's best friend, could have been a Death Eater, and as if the Dark Lord had a right hand. Lucius Malfoy was probably the only one who could boast about being the closest person to the Lord, thanks to his generous financial support, although one couldn't really boast about assisting the greatest Dark Mage since Grindelwald in his dark deeds of mass murder. Lucius had indeed been a Death Eater, and he had never seen Sirius Black among the ranks. Yilan thought that, without the numerous, well-placed bribes to the Ministry, her father would still be locked up in a cell at Azkaban, if not in Nurmengard. She was no fool, she knew what her father had done, in fact, it was Lucius himself who had confessed to Draco and herself. Lucius could be an outright liar to everyone, but he was honest to his family. Even regarding the harshest truth.

“You should talk to Draco.” Narcissa said suddenly, breaking her daughter out of her thoughts.

Yilan turned towards her, a single brow arched in what could pass as indifference or mild curiosity, but what really was worry for those who knew her well enough.

“I fear he might be troubled by something neither I or your father can help him with. It is likely he needs his sister's counsel more than his parents'.” Narcissa continued gently.

Her daughter nodded slowly. She had noticed that Draco seemed in a worse mood than usual, but she had thought it unimportant and short-lived.

“Go see him.” her mother encouraged her as she gracefully got to her feet. “Oh, and your father has a surprise for you, tonight. At supper. Do not be late.”

A pleased, surprised smile stretched the girl's lips. It wasn't every day that their father gifted them something, despite what people might think. Perhaps had he guessed that his son would not get a birthday gift from his twin this year and had decided to compensate with this surprise? With a slight frown, Yilan gathered her sheets and went back inside the manor. The swans kept splashing in the lake.

* * *

Without bothering to wait for Draco's consent, Yilan let herself into her brother's bedroom, sat on the huge poster bed, and waited for her twin to come out of the immensity of his closet. A few minutes later, Draco walked out of his dressing room and let himself sink into his sofa with all the Malfoy class he was able to muster – which was a lot.

“What brings you into the dragon's lair, dear sister of mine?” he drawled lazily, pointedly looking at his nail, pretending to be politely uninterested in her presence.

Yilan merely shrugged, unbothered.

“I simply happened to fall upon your latest love letter to our dear Harry. I was wondering if I could- Draco?”

Her twin's face, usually a pristine alabaster, had suddenly turned an alarming shade of red, and the twin himself looked as if he would rather be swallowed by the cushions than be here. Yilan's eyes widened. She had not expected that reaction. She had merely said that to bother him, but she hadn't thought that it would _bother _him like this...

“Salazar...” she whispered.

“I meant to tell you!” Draco said hurriedly. “I swear it, I just... didn't know how to breach the subject?” his tone sounded a bit like a question.

Past the surprise, Yilan was really amused that this was what troubled her twin. So much that she let out a bright laugh, and began to tease him about it.

“Did you, now? So far, you have not said anything of meaning.” she remarked, a mischievous smirk on her lips.

Draco blushed a little more, and closed his eyes briefly.

“Right. Imaynotonlybeattractedtogirls.” he muttered quickly.

“Pardon me? What was that, Draco dear?”

Yilan was having the time of her life. Draco was so easily embarrassed, you only needed to know which buttons to press. He took a deep breath, and cleared his throat.

“I may not only be attracted to girls.” he repeated more clearly, though his voice was still hushed.

A malicious glint shone in the slightly older twin's blue eyes.

“So you would write love letters to Harry Potter.”

The hot pink color on Draco's cheeks deepened a little more.

“He's the Survivor.” he protested weakly. “_Everyone _would write love letters to him.”

“Oh my dear Draco, a Malfoy is not _everyone_. You of all people should know that, should you not?”

Having somewhat regained countenance, Draco threw his long-haired twin a dirty glare. She let out a short burst of laughter, which made his own lips twitch upwards, then her smile softened.

“It was this that Mother was talking about, wasn't it?” she asked. At his furrowed brow, she added, “She told me that something seemed to be troubling you, something which neither she or Father could help you with.”

Draco remained quiet, but she knew their Mother had been right. It had been bothering him.

“Are you worried about telling them?” she asked softly.

Draco looked up at her, then nodded silently. He could only wonder about the reaction his father would have, and, frankly, he had been a bit scared about his sister's reaction. But she hadn't said anything. True to herself, she had only been amused by the fact that hatred wasn't the total sum of his feelings towards Harry Potter. As for Narcissa, it was likely she had already guessed, and wasn't bothered by it either. Only remained Lucius. Draco was filled with apprehension at the idea of announcing it to him. And with embarrassment at the talk that might follow.

“We'll do it together.” Yilan spoke again. “To tell you the truth...” Suddenly, she seemed hesitant as well, perhaps for the first time in her life. “I read this old book some time ago, that was filled with letters, love letters, from a witch to her lover, who she called _'dear Victoria'_. And it made me think...” she paused again, then looked up to her twin, who was wearing a soft smile on his face. She smiled back. “Men can be... attractive, I suppose.” Ignoring Draco's unsubtle eye-roll, she went on. “But women... Women are a wonder of nature. I mean, I would know.” she quipped arrogantly, confidence restored.

“Right, and who do _you_write love letters to? Hermione Granger?” Draco smirked, trying to get back at her teasing.

“I think our ancestors would be rolling in their graves.” Yilan placed a perfectly manicured hand on her chest, pretending to be horrified.

“So how do we tell them? 'Mother, Father, we might or might not be able to give you an heir.' Or 'Mother, Father, I like women, and so does she. She likes men, and so do I.”

They laughed together, imagining their parents' faces at receiving those news in such grossly peasant manners.

“You know, perhaps _I _will end up marrying Pansy, and _you_ will marry Theodore, in the end.” Yilan said pensively.

Draco grimaced. “Theodore is not quite my type.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Oh, you already have a type?”

He sniffed indignantly. “Of course I do. I am a Malfoy, after all. Or have you forgotten that it is not everyone who can pretend to our hands, dear sister?”

“And the Golden Boy certainly can pretend to your hand, can he not?”

“But the Muggle-Born certainly cannot pretend to _yours_, can she_._”

There was no heat to either of their quips and they both knew it. They remained quiet for a while, simply basking in each other's presence and their new revelations, until Yilan stood up, offering her hand to her twin.

“Come now, Draco. I believe it is time for supper.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Save a writer, drop a comment!


End file.
